


Radar

by livelaughlove



Series: Flashpoint Drabbles [20]
Category: Flashpoint
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 06:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livelaughlove/pseuds/livelaughlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day Lewis died still haunts Spike but he finds an unexpected comfort in an unexpected source.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Radar

"Mike! Buddy! We haven't seen you in forever! C'mon, you've got to come!"

Spike sighed; he so did not want to go out with his friends tonight. Shift had been hard and he was tired. But they were his friends, and they were right – he hadn't been out with them in months.

"Alright, I'll be there. 3:30 you said?"

~o~

Spike plopped himself down in the theatre seat, helping himself to a handful of his friend's popcorn as he waited for the movie to start. The lights dimmed and he relaxed into his seat as the opening credits rolled across the screen. The movie was based in the World War II era, featuring a submarine battle in the waters of the Atlantic. The movie was well made, and Spike had begun to enjoy himself until...

_beepbeepbeep...beepbeepbeep...BEEPbeepbeep..._

In an instant, he was transported from the darkened movie theatre to a sun-baked plaza. Gravel crunched under his feet and the shrill beeping filled his ears. An echo of the blast exploded through his mind as he struggled to bring himself back to the present. A heavy hand descended on his shoulder, wrenching him from his memories. Spike looked up to see the worried and slightly amused face of his friend peering at him from the next seat. It was only then that he noticed the way he'd curled in on himself and the death grip he'd taken on the armrests. Muttering apologies to his friends, he forced his way down the aisle, trying in vain to block the sounds of the explosions ripping their way across the screen. Reaching the lobby, Spike took a deep breath, running a shaking hand over his face. Leaning against a convenient wall, he slid down and buried his face in his arms. Focusing on breathing, he pushed the sights and sounds from that day back out of his mind. The flashback was so strong, so real. They always were. Even though many things still set them off, he could usually force himself to function through them. But not this time. Taking a few more deep breaths, he pushed himself into a standing position, reaching for his keys. He'd call his friends tomorrow and apologize but right now, he just wanted to go home.

"Uncle Spike!" He jumped, turning around in time to catch the small body that collided with his legs. Trying to smile, he looked down into the bright face of Wordy's middle daughter. Lily grinned up at him and wrapped her arms around his leg in a hug. A squeal echoed around the lobby and Spike braced himself against the impact. 6 year old Claire grabbed hold of his other leg, already chattering on in her high-pitched voice. Spotting Wordy and Shelley across the room, Spike managed to shuffle his way over to them, eliciting giggles from the girls as they fought to hang onto him. Peeling Lily off his leg, he lifted her onto his hip as he exchanged pleasantries with the Wordworths. Just as he began considering a polite but immediate exit, a small hand tapped his shoulder and Lily's tiny voice asked him, "Uncle Spike? Why were you out here all alone?"

_'Well, I was watching a movie and the damn radar noise set off my freaking flashbacks again so I ran out of the theatre like a little girl, trying not to cry'_. "I was watching a movie with my friends but it was too scary so I had to leave." Spike sighed silently as Wordy's eyes met his and a frown creased his friend's brow. He shook his head warningly and faked a smile. Wordy didn't buy it, "Again?"

"Yup."

"How bad?"

Spike grimaced, "Bad. Worse than usual."

Wordy's gaze dropped, "Sorry man. That sucks."

Lily looked in confusion between the two men. She couldn't understand what they were talking about but she did understand being scared by a movie. Wrapping her small arms around his neck, she planted a sticky kiss on Spike's cheek. When he looked at her in confusion, she smiled widely at him, "There! Now it's all better!"

Laughing at the dumbstruck look on Spike's face, Shelley leaned forward to take her daughter, lifting her onto her hip. The little girl waved at Spike as her mother carried her and Claire away to go buy the movie tickets, leaving Wordy and Spike to talk in relative peace. Spike sighed and started to relax as his heart rate dropped back to normal for the first time in what felt like hours. Giving Wordy a half smile, he gestured after Shelley, Claire and Lily, "Kids always know. You're a lucky man."

Wordy grinned back, "I know. My girls are my life. I don't know what I'd do without them." The smile slipped from his lips, "Seriously though, are you okay? You were white when we walked in here."

Spike nodded, "I am now. It's just...so hard to deal with the damn flashbacks when you don't know what will set them off. It was the beeping radar noise during the battle this time. It sounded like...like...the ground penetrating radar. I couldn't deal with it."

Grasping Spike's shoulder in silent sympathy, Wordy spoke with conviction, "It will get better. You just have to accept what happened and move on. They will never go away completely but it will get better. Don't forget to talk to someone."

Reaching for his keys once again, Spike took a step backwards, "I will. Oh, and here," he stuffed a few bills into Wordy's hand, "Buy your girls something they like and tell them it's from me. You know better than I do what they would want."

Wordy tucked the bills into a pocket and the men parted ways. Wordy returned to his family, hoisting Claire onto his shoulders. Spike retreated to his car, hoping that he'd be able to control the burning emotions until he got home. He would get better in time; he had to.


End file.
